Daily Mail Mother Hating.

I read an extremely rude article (obviously a daily mail special) about how fashionable it is to be a selfish mother, drink a lot of gin and confess to the moments your mothering has been a little under par. I get it, I write openly about how hard parenthood can be and I want so desperately to remove the stigma that plagues us all with having to be the best at something that is so notoriously hard for many of us but we need to do this with a degree of restraint because glamourising dysfunctional behaviour can be very damaging. The ‘instamum’ fad is something that I follow because it’s somewhat interesting but it is far from my life, I often blog about the difficulties of every day life with a baby and child and all the washing and the bloody bottles and before that the problems I had with boob feeding but it is all required to raise my little humans. I laugh at the size of my butt and the hangover I may have once a year when I dare to make that trip back into normality, BUT to me and many other mums it is not normality! I cannot afford to drink fancy gin infused with the flowers from a Beatrix Potter like garden, I cannot afford the beautiful shoes and all the fancy clothes, I cannot afford to resume my previous job and benefit from some of the freedom that may allow. I am not bitter, I have two gorgeous children and the last thing I want to do is be judgemental but what we should do is take the things we see with a pinch of salt because these mumma’s with the thousands of followers on social media may not be portraying the reality of their life (barely anyone does these days) and in allowing others to see what makes them popular as the norm of their life may lead to the imitation of this and it could become dangerous. Let’s face it all that gin they apparently consume may be a lie, and if it isn’t they may have a really good support network of people that help them out with their busy social life.
Essentially what I am trying to say in the most nonjudgmental way possible is that for the vast majority of us parents we cannot simply (and I do not believe we should either) slip children into our lives, we need to adapt and change to what they need. It is hard to retain your original identity when you have children, and I am not saying that you will never get it back or that at times it is not okay for it to make a comeback whilst you are at the bar drinking shots but that is not the reality your children need as a common occurrence. Children need to come first, that’s right I have to take a back seat with my own needs and wants to fulfil what I want for my children. I choose to populate, I need to ensure that I do it to my best abilities.
I also am suffering from postnatal depression and anxiety and whilst I do my best at as mum I can sometimes see the lifestyles of others who are more confident, outgoing and relaxed mothers and want a slice of that, I know my limitations and I cannot afford myself to slip into the bad habits of lazy parenting because it would be so detrimental for me. Remove the stigma of accepting that some days are a little shit, some weeks, some months even, do not glamorise the notion of being a mother that doesn’t care (not saying that they don’t) is okay. You get me?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-4508726/Why-women-boasting-slummy-mummies.html

 

Advertisements

A dedication….

I’m dedicating this post to an old friend that I fear I will never see again, he was my best friend, I morn his loss. There is no feeling like the sheer upset that this whole ordeal has had upon me and I’m reaching out, someone, anyone have you seen the sandman? I vaguely remember the nights he would visit and bring me to the land of nod but I fear he detests the sound of a screaming baby just as much as I do and the imminent danger that may befall anyone who happens to even breathe loudly prior to the baby’s wake up party. 

I don’t know how I am still able to stand. 

 I don’t know how my partner has not packed up and left me after the numerous times I have screamed obscenities into his face really really loud. 

I don’t know how the police have not been involved because if I can hear the neighbors snore I am certain they can hear me turn into the she hulk. 

I don’t know how I’m not even fatter than I am because I eat an extra meal most nights/mornings between 2 & 3am. 

I don’t know how my daughter sleeps through this all. 

For the last 9 months I have had a constant headache, dark circles around my eyes, a slight odour of impending doom…you know the smell of illness, kinda like that. When I sleep I dream of waking up, sometimes I wake up and look for George in the bed in fear I have fallen asleep whilst putting George back to bed. 

I told a friend once how I just want to be run over a little bit, like 5mph or some shit, enough to be kept in observations for a night or so, no major injuries. 

In short 9 months since I have had a late night visit from a previous special friend, if you see him tell him I can be found eating ice cream on the sofa, sobbing, listening to fucking Little Baby Bum nursery rhymes. 

Come back to me old friend and bring me your sand. 

Mum’s Night Off

So I wanted to write a review of my first night out since being pregnant (first drinking – I hadn’t gone complete hermit). It was a great night, a night I was actually quite unprepared for having never attempted hand expressing ¬†(a good friend had described this as ‘easy’ – thanks Bids) and I spent the whole night awake with a chest that felt like concrete. George also guzzled 34oz in less than 24hrs and we were on the first boat home in the morning!

Despite being at a beautiful wedding where I was supporting the best man I must say my favourite speech came from the Mother of the Groom (unorthodox, maybe but terrific nonetheless) it was a reading from Good Housekeeping about the requirements of a wife, it was incredibly hilarious albeit not intentionally at the time so I want to give it a modern spin, here goes.

1. Notice the housework. It take two seconds to lie about how clean the bathroom looks. It’s not the fairies and maybe try and do some?

2. That meal you love eating, you know the one? The recipe is available on BBC Food.

3. You are weary from work? I have entertained two children all day, one has regaled me with a 45 minute dream sequence that has consisted of every mystical creature you can think and the other has thrown up over every outfit I tried to wear before I just thought ‘fuck it’. WEARY? You do not know the meaning of this word.

4. Sex. Be grateful, and be ready because if you even dream to turn me down like I do you when I cannot keep my eyes open I will  hold it against you for a month, pretend to be on a drastic diet and finally have a breakdown in a bowl of ice cream

5. The children are also your responsibility, that means even though I’ll insist that I have this down and will not relinquish the baby you have to deal with the fallout of my strop that would have been completely avoidable if I’d have let you help when you’d offered.

6. Say sorry. Say sorry on behalf of the baby and children. Say sorry on behalf of the dog. Say sorry when I am in the wrong, just say fucking sorry please.

7. You will love me when I don’t love me. When I feel fat, when I have nothing nice to wear despite having a wardrobe full of pretty things. Tell me that I am important, lavish me attention even if I am on my phone.

8. Understand that I like to moan at you sometimes. Just suck it up.

9. Sometimes I wash up just to get pissed off you didn’t do it/offer. This is often done knowing you haven’t even had time to consider the need to clean the kitchen and is an unjustified argument.

10. I do actually love you. Crazy amounts and I am quite sorry about numbers 1-9.

In conclusion it’s unlikely that can actually live with us and our species would die if you lived without us but it was a jolly fine wedding, the bride looked stunning and the groom looked suitably stunned, the food and company were spectacular. Cheers and good luck.img_5921